Page 12 of Firefly
I’ve missed you, Firefly. Did you miss me?
Simple but enough to unravel her completely.
Did her father really think he could keep me away from her? That he could throw me in prison and erase me from existence?
Nah.
All he did was create a monster with too much time and too much hate festering inside him.
And now I’m back.
The warehouse lights flicker overhead as I crush the cigarette beneath my boot then swing onto my bike.
Time to collect on another favor.
The ride across Brimstone to Whitestone is fast and loud.
The lights blur around me while my thoughts spiral darker with every mile.
By the time I pull up outside the Devils Incarnate clubhouse, my mood has blackened completely.
The building sits like a fortress behind a chainlink fence with guards at every corner. Loud music vibrates through the parking lot so loudly you can feel it in your chest.
One of the prospects notices me and slides open the gate, letting me in. I roll through and park in front of the entrance. I kill the engine and remove my helmet slowly.
Instantly, eyes track toward me as club girls, I think they call them Croweaters, smoke near the front doors. A few other prospects and men patched in size me up like they’re deciding whether I’m worth burying.
“You lost, pretty boy?” one prospect asks, stepping forward.
“Tell Ryker and Ryder that Ghost is here.” I smirk, and the guy stiffens slightly at the name before disappearing inside.
Less than a minute later, the clubhouse doors swing open and Ryker Rivers steps out.
Big. Tattooed. Mean as fuck looking.
Devil Incarnates VP with his twin brother, Ryder, following behind him carrying the exact same ice-cold expression that makes people nervous.
Twins. The only difference between them, besides rank, is that Ryder wears glasses. Otherwise, they are nothing but violence wrapped in leather cuts.
Ryker lights a joint before speaking.”You’re late.”
“I had business,” I say, and Ryder’s eyes narrow.
“The Fitzgerald girl?”
How the fuck does he know about her?Interesting.
“You know her?” I ask, and the twins exchange a look, but neither answers directly.Typical.
“Come inside. We need to talk ‘Dungeon business,’” Ryker states, jerking his head towards the doors.
The Dungeon.
A place where rich men bet on broken bones while fighters damn near kill each other for cash and reputation. Daggerspoint’s underground fight club.
Owned by the Cyprus brothers. One of the five founding families.
The only good ones of them all ,otherwise they are all corrupt.
